Forgetting the Past
by rkins
Summary: The world had changed. The war was over, alliances have ended. But can they forge new friendships and find love even after it all?
1. Chapter 1: Introductions

**A/N: Hello! I've been on an exceptionally long break from writing..but I'm back! And I have this story completely finished! I know if you follow me half published works, you'll be glad to hear that. It will be 7 or 8 chapters, depending on if I rework the ending a bit as I edit. That's totally possible. This first chapter is literal to it's names - it's an introduction.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money off this story or these characters.**

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Introductions:

The February two years after the Second Wizarding War was a raining, cold month for London. Out of the 28 days, only one gave way to sunshine. Hermione Granger had spent most of that day filing inventory sheets for her bookstore in Diagon Alley. She glanced out the expansive window of the shop and smiled at the sunlight. Making a snap decision, she put down the stack of paperwork in her hand and grabbed her purse behind the counter.

"Marie?!" She yelled to disheveled bookstore behind her.

"Yea, boss?" A stout, young women poked her head from behind a stack of books.

"I'm going to get a coffee. Fancy one?"

Marie smiled. "Brilliant! Please!"

Hermione waved to her silently and stepped into the brisk air of February. She sighed audibly as the warmth of the sun kissed her pale skin. She closed her eyes and soaked up the unusual rays as though she'd never seem them again. Laughing at herself she gingerly walked to the café down the street.

She nodded politely to the other storeowners who were also getting ready for the spring re-opening of Diagon Alley. It was almost two years since Harry Potter killed Voldemort and their world was still rebuilding everything it had lost. Their economy and commerce was next on the list.

In her short walk to the café, she remembered why she loved the magical world. Brooms swept the dusty street on their own accord, neighbors helped each other lift signs and clean windows; the street was alive with the reasons Harry, Ron and she had fought so endlessly. Guilt twitched through her heart at the thought of her two friends.

After the war, the trio was disbanded. Her and Ron flirted with the idea of a relationship for nearly three weeks. It was enough to realize how deeply they cared for the other and how epically unhappy the two of them would be in a romantic relationship. So they hugged and went back to being friends. It was the most anticlimactic ending to an otherwise much anticipated joining. Hermione knew they had made the right decision because being friends continued on so easily. When Ron started dating Luna only a month later, Hermione didn't even feel jealous.

Seeing Ron move on gave Hermione the courage to do the same. She started dating. No one in particular; but everyone at the same time. She wasn't a slut by any definition; she was searching. She wanted to find her other half – "her Luna" as she told Ron. Without her even realizing it, she had become an adult quickly. Dating gave her a since of youth. Only months after the war ended, she received her inheritance from her parents will, and it was bountiful. She put all of it in the bank only after buying a tiny cottage and one of the old shoppes in Diagon Alley. When she started to change her appearance to fit how she felt about her new life, she got Harry's attention.

Harry was lost after the war. He continued on with the Order but hardly ever went on missions and constantly doubted his place in the world. When Hermione started challenging everyone's memory of her mousy, bookish appearance, Harry started to come out of his shell. He took notice, he brought her out on dates and began to join the community's efforts to rebuild. After several weeks of flirting, Hermione made Harry dinner in her cottage and bared her soul to him. Admitted she was falling in love with him and told him she wanted him to find himself. They spent the night in each other's arms, giving each other what they had never given anyone before.

The next day Hermione woke up to a note on kitchen table explaining Harry's departure. He wrote that her words the night before crept into his head and wouldn't release. He needed to find himself, and no one here in England could help him do that. She was heart broken – waiting months, thinking he'd return to her. That was the last time she saw him, nearly two years ago.

Hermione sometimes practiced what she'd say if she ever saw him again. She'd end up laughing off her cruel words, knowing in her heart she'd probably just faint – or slap him silly. The truth was, she had changed in these two years. She no longer remembered why she loved him or saw a future with him. Being deserted gives a girl some doubt. But she still hadn't found "the one."

As she reached the café, a familiar, Italian hand reached for the handle before she had a chance. Marco, one of the men she dated before the holidays stood right in front of her. She smiled shyly, remembering their short time together.

"Hermione." His smile was broader than hers, no doubt also remembering the few nights they stayed at his apartment together. "This is a surprise.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "Is it Marco?" She walked past him into the café. "You didn't know that I'd be here getting the store ready?"

Marco laughed. "You caught me." His hand fell to the small of her back as they walked to the line at the counter. "Let me buy you a coffee, anyway."

"I have to get Marie, my assistant, a coffee as well."

Marco smiled, "Isn't it the assistant's job to get the coffee?"

Hermione glanced at the sunlight streaming in from the window. "I didn't want to miss the only sunny day we've seen in weeks because I was buried in paperwork."

Marco ordered three coffees and then guided Hermione to a nearby table, directly in the sunlight. She had a perfect view of the street where they sat. "That's why I like you Hermione – you enjoy the small things in life." Translastion: she wasn't a drama queen, high-maintenance girlfriend who would add stress to Marco's already busy life.

Over the next 15 minutes, Hermione and Marco chatted about "old times". She remembered exactly why it didn't work out: his ego. He only wanted to talk about himself. Regardless of how great he was in bed, she couldn't stomach a relationship of such one-sided proportions. Out of nowhere he asked, "Do you want to go out this Friday?" Hermione looked at his beautiful, brown eyes, took in his gorgeous Italian tan and strong arms and remembered the last time she had gotten laid was before the rain started.

"Sure. That would be great." She smiled, all the while fantasizing about how she'd be on her back this weekend releasing some stress.

Marco wrote down a name of a bar in Muggle London and his telephone number that Hermione still had stored in her cell phone. He left the table after kissing her knuckles and promising a fun-filled evening.

Hermione sighed again as she picked up her coffees and began making her way back to the bookstore. She had two months to get the bookstore to where it had to be, and no time for men. That's why she started dating casually in the first place. She didn't want anything serious. Still, she saw no need in restricting her sexual appetite because she wasn't in love. Waiting for love hadn't worked out so great for her the first time. As she walked into her bookstore and handed Marie her coffee, she had a great feeling about Friday night.


	2. Chapter 2: A Surprise

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money off this story or these characters.**

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Friday night, Hermione found her self waiting at a gorgeous mahogany bar, sipping a delicious vodka martini wearing a dress that any man would describe as tantalizingly displaying her features. Never incredibly curvy through Hogwarts, after the war she developed into her womanly curves and embraced them. The black lace dress she wore showed every aspect of that new, petite body.

She looks around the restaurant, taking it in. She'd never been to a restaurant that dripped with this much class. Every accessory from the polished tables to the whiskey decanters on the bar spoke of a man's oasis. She felt like one of those beautiful, classy accessories in the room. She could almost feel a caressing hand move up her thigh to assert his possession and his need all in one movement. She gazed around the room taking in the people as they dined, wondering if they felt the same sense of control. One man walking confidently from the back of the room caught her eye.

Her heart stopped for nearly a second, but her face never faltered. He was gorgeous. He was tall and strong, confident and powerful. His black business suit cut his body perfectly, showing his lean physique. His blonde hair and white skin glowed against the jet-black fabric. His own steps slowed as they eyed each other. Immediately, Hermione felt her body shiver in arousal. His gray eyes bore into her soul, revealing her. He was Draco Malfoy. Hermione couldn't stop herself from smiling at him. Not a tentative "hey – how are you smile," but a "oh my you are good looking" smile. She raised her glass to him. She gulped down the rest of the delicious martini as she watched him smirk at her and move effortlessly through the tables toward her.

Draco Malfoy hadn't left the wizarding world behind, but he sure wasn't eager to step out into the public eye after the disaster his father left as his legacy. The moment he saw Hermione Granger sitting at his bar, he knew that his denial of his world would have to end. Her tiny, little body sat perched on one of his leather bar stools gave him the overwhelming desire to pick her up, push her back onto the bar and shag her like never before. Her sexy smile with those plump lips nearly made him hard as he walked toward her. He was on his way to talk to a high-profile patron, but that could wait. Clearly, she wasn't dressed like that to drink alone, he was sure he'd have time later. The thought of her meeting another man, surprisingly, made him slightly ill. What had happened to him?

Last time he saw Hermione Granger, she was crying over a dead body. He frowned slightly as he remembered how he stopped himself from going over to comfort her. Him – comfort Hermione Granger the night Voldemort was murdered. Something about her strength through her tears stunned him. He pulled himself away from the grieving teenager to find his family and escape the scene. Following the war, the trials and press his family received tore them apart.

His father received the Dementor's Kiss only a month after the war ended. He left the ministry that day vowing never to work there, never to step foot inside again. He returned to the manor to pack his things, with his mother screaming at him from outside his bedroom door. He took his inheritance from his Grandfather and left. He walked out of the Manor and out of his mother's life. He wanted nothing to do with his past, with the dark memories of horrible deeds he had been forced to commit.

Every once and a while, he'd make a trip to Hogsmeade or one of the few shoppes in Diagon alley for the essentials. He could never give up magic, even if he now embraced life with the Muggles. He loved his freedom and his drive to be different from his father. But now, his past was sitting directly in front of him.

"Granger." He had reached her. She hadn't moved as he walked toward her; she hadn't taken her eyes off of him. But she was holding an empty martini glass. "Dirty martini?"

Hermione glanced away from the blonde towering over her to look at her glass. "Vodka."

Draco smirked at her again, then called to the bartender. "Another over here, and a GlenLevit." The bartender nodded and Draco took the stool next to Hermione. "What brings you here tonight? It's a little far from Diagon Alley."

Hermione swiveled her stool to face him again. Her bare knee brushed up against his. She watched as his eyes darted down to the contact and he shifted. Hermione had been with enough men to know it wasn't a shift of disgust, but arousal. "I'm meeting someone for dinner." She was being short on purpose, and Draco saw it as a challenge. He loved it.

"It's been a long time. You've been good." It wasn't a question, more like an observation. She picked up the drink the bartender placed in front of her and sipped it cautiously.

"Yes." Her voice nearly broke. In school, he never had this power over her. But here, now, this was different. His confidence lapped around her, controlling her every thought. She had never felt this way in the presence of any man. She was on fire at the mere brush of his suit pant. "And you?" She took another small sip of the salty, ice cold drink.

Draco watched as she sipped the martini. He loved how her tongue traced her lips after every sip to catch what she may of missed. "Small steps." His eyes met hers again. He held them there for a moment, very aware of his need for her. His desire for her to forget about this man she was meeting and to leave with him. He could see her willingness in her eyes; they dripped with desire. Draco had never felt such intensity for a women so directly after meeting her; but Hermione was no ordinary women.

A man clearing his throat over Draco's shoulder broke their moment together. Hermione looked away and instantly Draco felt something was missing. He watched her smile shyly to the man behind him; it was nothing like the smile he received. The smile still made him jealous. He turned around to see a handsome, dark haired man he didn't recognize. He stood up and extended his hand to the man. No sense in being rude to a person who could frequent the establishment.

"Draco Malfoy." He shook his hand. "You must be who this lovely women is waiting for."

Marco smirked. "Marco Pisano." He shook Draco's hand with incredible force. Draco matched his handshake; Hermione rolled her eyes.

Men would always compete over women. She felt guilty that Marco didn't have a chance. Regardless, she let Marco move behind her and slip a hand on the small of her back. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco caught the uncomfortable smile on Hermione's lips. He convinced himself Marco wasn't anyone important.

"Thank you for the drink." She held up what was left of her martini.

Draco's eyes fell to her again, smiling. He wanted so desperately to pull her away from the slime ball beside her. He wanted to run his fingers down her exposed spine and smell the scent of her hair. But instead he replied, "Of course, I'll make sure the two of you get the best table available. If you excuse me, I have some guests to meet." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, holding on to her gaze. Hermione's heart skipped a beat as his eyes bore into her.

"You are the manager here?" She asked. Her voice was raspy with desire. Marco cleared his throat again, but Draco ignored him.

"I own the restaurant." With that he turned and walked away.

Hermione was distracted the rest of the night. Marco's mood was set from Draco's appearance and didn't change all night. He poked and prodded Hermione to find out who Draco was too her. She gave little insight, because she wasn't yet sure. This only fuelled Marco's attempts to prove he was better than "the restaurant owner".

Draco did his part by keeping Marco in a controlled anger the rest of the night. He sent over a bottle of delicious, free champagne, the most decadent, lavish morsels of food and extravagant desserts, keeping him on her mind. Hermione, she feared, only added to Marco's low self-confidence that night, searching the crowd for an invisible Draco every few moments.

At the end of the night when they were ready to leave, Draco finally reappeared to inquire about their meal. Hermione, finding her confidence in the conversation, gushed over how delicious and perfect the meal was. She slid her chair back, looking for the coat she had hung near by, but Draco had it in his hand. He helped her into her coat, inwardly laughing at Marco's angered expression.

He could smell her shampoo and watched as her neck grew hot under his close proximity. It pleased him to have such an effect on her. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Hermione." It was the first time he had ever said her given name in all the years they had been acquainted. The whisper licked her ear with desire. She lost strength in her knees and fell back into his broad chest.

Draco struggled to control his own desire as she fell back onto him. He wrapped his arms around her quickly, knowing exactly why she lost her balance. His arms fit perfectly around her tiny frame. "Are you ok?" He whispered again.

"Ah." She turned slowly to look at him. "Yes." Her faced burned pink. Both knew exactly what had happened. "It was surprisingly, lovely to see you tonight, Draco." She kept her hand on his chest to steady her. His name on her tongue made his heart pound in his chest. He smiled genuinely.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles again. He desperately wanted to take her back into his arms and kiss her senseless. He daydreamed about the taste of her lips and the feeling over her body pressed against his. Marco, once again, broke their goodbye by obnoxiously clearing his throat.

"Well, I should see her home. This is an excellent restaurant you have, Malfoy." Marco let Draco's name drip with distain. He felt the challenge immediately. Marco's distaste for the Malfoy family and his past as well as his disbelief that Hermione would ever be seen in public with the likes of him held in the air like a heavy veil.

"Yes. Well, please come again." He didn't take his eyes off of Hermione as Marco wrapped an arm around her and pulled her away. All the while, Hermione's eyes were still glued to Draco's.


	3. Chapter 3: Can't get you off my mind

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money off this story or these characters.**

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The next day Draco woke up with an untamed desire to see Hermione. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since she walked out of his restaurant the night before, wide eyed and unwilling to leave. He needed to see her; to see if the attraction wasn't just a product of their environment. To see if she could move past the rumors and hateful things his parents forced him to say and do. He needed to see if she'd accept his apology and move forward – with him.

There was so much history that could keep the two of them apart. The Wizarding World may have accepted the Ministry's decision to drop his charges, but individually, wizards and witches spat in his face. They scowled as he walked through the streets of wizarding towns and they whispered behind his back. No one knew him, but they thought they did.

They all thought he had escaped the doors of Azkaban because he was under the age of 17 for most of the war. By the time he turned of age, his father had dragged him in too deep to turn back. That's what he told the ministry, and that was the truth. He never wanted to hurt people or be under Voldemort's thumb. He liked control, he wanted to control his own life.

When he left his family and heritage behind, he found his control for the first time. He used the minimal inheritance he had from his Grandfather, the money his mother couldn't hold from him, to open his Muggle restaurant. He designed it and ran it as though it was his better half, which, until yesterday, he thought was his future.

After the war he thwarted the efforts of Pansy Parkinson to marry him. He had no interest in pursuing a relationship that was strictly based on sex. After the last time they hooked up, he lost interest in women. Not the idea of having sex with women, just the greedy, money hungry, drama filled, high maintenance women that threw themselves at him. Witches connected to the Death Eaters wanted to marry him and live off his substantial inheritance. Witches who fought for the Ministry wanted to rebel against their fathers. Even in the Muggle world, the women either chased after his money or his control. He knew he would be single the rest of his life.

The minute he saw Hermione the night before, his future became foggy to him. He imagined her sitting at that bar every night waiting for him to get off so they could go home, make love and sleep in each other's arms. He didn't see greed or rebellion in her eyes; he saw pure lust. That's what led him to be standing in front of her bookstore. He cursed himself for trying, but he had to know if it was possible. He had never felt the way he had last night when her eyes met his. She had grown into a beautiful, strong willed women – but could she forget the past?

Draco took a deep breath and opened the door. The bell chimed and Hermione appeared dusting off her t-shirt and jeans as she came to the front. She hadn't looked up yet when she started to announce, "We're not open yet. You'll have to come back…" She looked up and her voice trailed off. She looked down at herself again and her cheeks burned red.

Draco smiled. She looked beautiful. She resembled the Hermione Granger he once knew but sexier. Her skinny fit blue jeans hugged her hips and her curvy, little ass. Her grimy, designer t-shirt hung loosely over her breasts, but cut off about an inch above her jeans, showing off her milky skin and flat stomach. Her hair was pulled back in an enormous bun, a far cry from the sleek waves he saw last night.

"Oh." Hermione tried to dust off her shirt again. "We aren't open for business yet, Draco." The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes." He looked around. "I see. Are you opening this spring?"

Hermione smiled slightly, taking in his clean cut, casual look. His dark jeans and designer peacoat fit him as handsomely has the suit he wore last night. "Yes." She replied, walking slowly to him. "As you can see the furniture is in place, my assistant and I are just taking inventory and placing the books where they need to go."

"Dusty job." He noted, walking around her to take in the shoppe. She burned at his comment. For a moment she felt like she was back in the Hogwarts library.

"Yes. Some of the books are very old." Draco nodded. "How was the rest of your night, Draco?"

He absentmindedly ran his fingers down the spine of a few novels he remembered enjoying as a child. "Very busy. We just opened last month, but we got some great press so it's been at capacity every night." He turned, wondering if he should ask about her night. He did. "And yours?"

Hermione pulled a lock her hair behind her ear. "Quiet." She smiled. "Marco dropped me off at my place and I locked the door behind me." She didn't know why she felt the need to tell him she didn't sleep with Marco last night. She wanted to assure him, she was his. Was she? Nervous, Hermione moved to behind the cashiers counter, searching for something.

Hermione pulled out a book and hands it to him. "How did you know I owned this shoppe?"

Draco shrugged. "The Daily." He turned the book over in his hand. It was a historical fiction based on the war. "They did a large write up on the Golden Trio a few months ago. What's this?"

"A fiction based on the Second Wizarding War." Hermione shrugged taking it out of his hand and putting it back on its display. "We are having a signing for that book the day we open."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Who's signing it?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, no one knows who the author is, so I am." Draco gave her a questioning look. "I'm the main character – at least speculated to be. You should come back and get one signed – there's a character based on you."

Draco was intrigued, but disappointed she wanted to wait two months to see him again. "I'll come back, definitely." He thought another moment. "Or you could just sign my book at dinner tomorrow night?"

Hermione blushed again. She did hope this was his intention when she saw him standing at the threshold of her shoppe. Their attraction last night was undeniable. She had to endure Marco's complaints about Draco's brazen attitude all the way to the apparition point. But was he different from before? She looked into his eyes. He stood patiently waiting for an answer to his confident question. He showed no sign of wavering or caring of the answer. Except his eyes, his eyes told his story. Hermione wanted to know the story.

"Sure," she shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Draco tried the same thing, but inside he was jumping for joy. "But only if you don't take me to your restaurant."

Draco smiled and walked toward the counter. Hermione, at the same time, moved around it to stand in front. "No, of course not. I'll pick you up?"

"Yea, here's fine." Hermione wasn't quite ready to open up her home to him. But she nearly went weak in the knees when he smiled again. She gripped the counter for support.

"Excellent. I'll see you at 6 tomorrow." Without being able to help himself, he placed a lock of her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. Her face tilted toward his lips and he lingered there for a moment.

"Looking forward to it," she whispered to him. His stomach did a flip.

"Until tomorrow." He said and started to walk away. "Wear something casual." She nodded at him as he walked backward toward the door, smiling.

He opened the door to leave, just as Ginny Weasley was opening the door to enter. "Oh!" Ginny said as Draco stepped on her foot.

"I'm sorry, Weasley." He smiled one last time at Hermione before heading out into Diagon Alley.

Ginny stood in awe at the door. "Well, he got hot." She turned to Hermione. "What was he doing here?"

Hermione smiled and covered her hands with her face. "He asked me out to dinner!"

Ginny frowned. "What?"

Hermione laughed a little. "Don't be like that, Gin. We haven't seen him in two years. He's different – I think."

Ginny got comfortable in one of the oversized couches. "He just came here out of the blue?" Hermione shook her head. "When did you see him?"

"Last night Marco took me to the restaurant he owns."

"He owns a restaurant?"

Hermione nodded. "A Muggle one."

Ginny laughed. "You are joking?" Hermione shook her head. "So what you saw him at his restaurant and he swept you off your feet?"

"Not exactly, but close." She smiled remembering how she lost her footing when he said her name. Hermione put down what she was doing and looked out the window in the direction he had walked. "I don't know, I can't explain it. I just need to figure it out."

"Oh my Merlin! You have the hots for him. I mean – why wouldn't you? But it's Malfoy!"

"Two years, Gin. Two years."

"What about Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, nervous to ask at all.

"What about him? He's off finding himself; he gave upon me long before I gave up on him. Plus, I've dated plenty of men since he's left. You never cared about those."

"I've haven't seen that look in your eyes since you told me Harry and you got together." Hermione sighed. "I just want to make sure you are doing the right thing."

"I don't know if I am, Ginny. But I need you to support me. Trust that I won't make a bad decision for myself. I haven't yet."

Ginny nodded. "Ok. But you have to tell Ron."

Hermione laughed. "Deal. I'll tell him if there's anything to tell."


	4. Chapter 4: Finding a Fit

**Disclaimer: I do not make money of this story. I do not own Harry Potter or these characters.**

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**Finding a Fit:**

The next night, Hermione showed up at the bookstore at 5:30. She thought she'd get a few things done while waiting for Draco to pick her up. She had meant to get there earlier, but it had taken her ages to get ready. Never in the two years she'd been dating had she ever had such a hard time picking out something to wear. She settled on a pair of black jeans with black knee high boots and a cream, low cut sweater. She wrapped a thin, leather belt around her trim waste to add an accent. Her wavy hair cascaded around her shoulders and breasts. She was only there 15 minutes when she heard the bells chime at the door.

With a smile she looked up to find Draco wearing pretty much the same outfit from the day before. His jeans were dark, but his coat was a charcoal gray. "Hello." She put down what she was doing. "You are early."

"Do you ever not work?" Draco teased as he leaned over the counter to look at her paperwork.

"Do you ever mind your own business?" Hermione flipped shut the file of papers shut. Draco raised his hands in surrender.

"Just making sure your mind is with me tonight." Hermione softened at his words. "I wouldn't want any distractions for proving to you how awesome I am."

He listened to Hermione laugh as she came around the counter, grabbing her coat along the way. Draco took it from her and helped her put it on. "I like your laugh." He whispered in her ear. He saw her lips curve into a smile.

Then she whipped around, an impressive feat in her 3-inch boots. "Where are you taking me?" Even with her boots on, she still stood a foot under Draco.

He wrapped his arms around her. She fit perfectly against his body, her lips still smiling and her eyes still dancing. He asked, "Can we apparate from here?" She nodded. "Good, hold on."

When Hermione opened her eyes they were standing in the foyer of an expansive apartment with a wall of windows overlooking London Tower. "Oh my. Where are we?"

"My apartment." Draco let her walk away from him. He watched her take in the view as she slowly unbuttoned her coat.

"You live here? That's a bold choice of venue for a first date." She smirked at him, turning to the window. "This place is beautiful." Draco shrugged.

"The view is beautiful. The apartment is empty." He took her coat from her and hung it on a hook on the wall. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

Hermione smiled, nodding. "Of course." She followed him further into the apartment. The soft click of her heels on the glass tile echoed through the room. She watched as he poured a respectful size glass of red wine and held it out to her. He poured his own and then held his glass in the air toward her. "To the future."

She smiled the same sexy smile he had seen two nights before and clinked her glass against his before taking a long sip of the deliciously dry wine. Her eyes never left his. "This is delicious." She said, spinning the red liquid in her glass.

Draco nodded then took her hand. He pulled her toward the kitchen. "You are in for a treat tonight, Hermione." She giggled like a schoolgirl and sat at the breakfast bar. With a flick of his wand, the bar was filled with fresh vegetables and meats.

"You're cooking?" Hermione laughed, astonished.

"Why do you sound so surprised? I do own my own restaurant." Hermione nodded taking another sip of the wine and sat back silently watching him start work.

When her glass of wine was empty and Draco had filled it again, she decided she was no longer content with watching him cook and wanted to help. He wrapped his arms around her and guided her hands as she sliced peppers and tomatoes for the salad. He whispered in her ear tips and tricks of cooking, letting his hot breath warm her more than the red wine.

When the lamb was out of the oven and Hermione's third glass of wine had been filled, Draco pulled her to the table and instructed her to wait. She laughed and watched him plate the food, licking his fingers to clean them off. His face was full of concentration. She could tell he loved food and loved to share it. He finally looked up with a brilliant smile and took the plate over to Hermione. He presented it to her and sat beside her with his own food.

She could stop smiling. She sliced into the tender lamb and placed a morsel in her mouth. She melted into the delicious food, moaning as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Draco watched her in rapture. She chewed the lamb slowly, closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure when she got the full taste of the meat. He shifted in his seat to control his arousal. He watched her take another sip of wine, savoring the dry flavor and then licking her lips and grab any last drops.

"This is delicious." She looked at him, eyes smoky with desire and caution. "Everything is delicious."

He smirked at her. "I don't know if it's more fun to eat the food or watch you eat it." She blushed but took another bite regardless.

The rest of the night continued just as it began, easy. Hermione had never expected to find conversation so easily with Draco Malfoy. It wasn't only easily found, it was easily continued. They laughed together and caught up with what the other had been doing for the past two years.

Hermione told him about how her parents had died in Australian during the war. That she used some of the money they left her to buy a house in Wales and the store in Diagon Alley. She confessed she was nervous about opening the store, but that she knew it was the right decision. It took her nearly a year to write up the business plan and find publishers that would fill her shelves. She knew it was right, because she loved it. She had never found a place in the world as fitting as her shoppe and it wasn't even ready. Draco loved listening to her gush about her life after the war. She made no mention of Harry, but explained how close she still was with Ginny, Neville, Ron and Luna.

"So you are the fifth wheel?" Draco joked, sitting back after the meal was finished.

Hermione laughed again. "I suppose." She took a sip of her wine. "But I've never felt that way. They never made me feel left out."

"And where is Potter in all of this?"

Hermione shrugged, avoiding eye contact with Draco for the first time all night. "I don't know. He left two years ago and I haven't seen or heard from him since." Draco could hear the honest and the pain in her answer.

"Why?"

"You'd have to ask him, he didn't grace me with an explanation," she spat. He didn't know whether her anger was because they were such close friends or if there was something more. He didn't push it. He didn't want to ruin the night.

During dessert, which Draco admitted he did not cook, he shared the last two years of his life with Hermione. He was open and honest about the trial and watching his father get the kiss.

"Regardless of what anyone thinks, my father loved me. More than anything or anyone." Hermione touched his arm in support. "He made horrible decisions in life, but he loved me."

He explained that his relationship with his mother wasn't strained it was non-existent. When he told her that he was going to culinary and business school in the Muggle world, she nearly died right there. "The only thing keeping her alive is the knowledge that I wouldn't get any of my father's money." He raised a glass to her and drank the rest of his wine. He went on to tell how leaving the Wizarding World for a year was the best decision he ever made. He found himself in the streets of London and made some great friends and new memories.

Hermione listened his story in wonder. When he stopped, he looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry." Hermione was taken by surprise.

"Why? Dinner was delicious and I've, surprisingly, had an amazing night." She honestly didn't think it was the wine talking when she said it.

Draco smiled small before going on, "I'm sorry that I was so horrible to you and your friends at school. I'm sorry that the fools I supported hurt you. We were horrible and I don't deserve this second chance."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She got up, pushed his chair back and straddled him. Draco's eyes were wide. She sat there on his lap, playing with his hair. "I should be honest with you, then." She watched Draco swallow, and she could feel him harden beneath her. "I completely forgot out about past today."

"What?" He whispered.

"You are so different, so full of life and fun and strong, I can't even compare you to the Draco I knew at Hogwarts and during the war."

"He's in there somewhere, Hermione. You can't change who you are completely."

Her lips got closer to his. "Thank you for your apology, but I don't see him." Her voice was barely a whisper and her lips were so close. Draco could smell the dry wine on her breath. It was, she was, intoxicating.

He kissed her. His hands dove into her mass of curls, pulling her face to his. Her hips drove deeper into his lap and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Their lips moved together, slow and sure. His tongue begged for entrance, tracing her bottom lip and eliciting a moan. Her skin was on fire, and Draco was adding fuel. She had to stop. She had to take a breath before she went where she wasn't ready to go.

Well, she was ready. But she couldn't. She felt this could last – why ruin it with sex on the first date. There would always be the past, the memories – but she needed to try and move past them. She broke off the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. "I should go." The three words nearly broke Draco in half. Her voice was heavy with breath and her body still clung to him, unwilling to let go. With his fingers still laced in her hair, he pulled her head back so he could see her eyes.

He saw it - desire. That's what he needed to see. He needed to know she wasn't leaving scared of him, but scared of how fast they could become something. "Yes." He agreed.

Slowly she moved away from him, off of his lap. She straightened her sweater and steadied her legs. Draco discreetly adjusted himself and stood next to her, pulling her into a hug. She buried her face into his chest, groaning.

"What have you done to me, Draco?"

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Exactly what you have done to me, love."

He pulled away and got her coat from the foyer. "You can apparate from here." He helped her into her coat like usual, and pulled her too him. Her back pressed against his chest and his chin on her shoulder, he whispered, "I will see you again, right?"

Hermione turned around with the most brilliant smile on her face. "You can count on it." She gave him a long, lingering kiss on the lips. Then passed him a small piece of paper. "My cell phone number."

He smiled at her and nodded. Then with a crack she was gone.


End file.
